Eggs, or how Steve and Sodapop Became Daddies
by CrunchyRainbowTacos
Summary: Two Greasers, Steve and Sodapop, are given eggs to take care of for one week for health class. Love it like a real baby, just DON'T you dare break it...Who will keep their baby egg alive the longest?
1. Day One

**Outsiders aren't mine ^^ **

**Hi again, lovlies! No, this isn't TR2, it's just a little something I thought would be cute...This is set when steve and Soda are 15 and still in school. **

One

**The cool, smooth** white oval sat in the Greasers' hands with the upmost care and gentleness. Perhaps the paralyzing fear of dropping the thing is what kept the eggs still, kept them in one piece.

"Mine's a boy, man! What's yours?" Sodapop asked excitedly, smiling down at his, "son," for a week and for fifteen percent of his final grade.

Steve shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. How can ya tell? It's not like they have-"

"Their eyes. Can I see yours?"

"No! You have your own baby."

"See, look. Yours is a girl 'cause she has…those…things on her eyes."

"Oh, you mean _eyelashes_," Steve said. "I get it."

The boys' class had been given each an egg to look after for one week, and no, Steve, you can't break it and get a new one, because the teacher had marked each egg specially and she expects each one back happy, healthy, well-adjusted…children. They were to fill out a daily journal of what they do with the egg each day, give it a name, birthday, feed it, clean it, and of course, love it.

"Know what? Guys have eyelashes, too, why does everyone think we don't?"

"Look! Lookit him, Steve! He's smilin' at me..." Soda sighed happily and hugged the egg to his face, just under his nose. "I'm gonna call him...Ethelbert. How do you like that, Ethelbert?"

"Ethelbert?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, from the Bowery Boys. That movie we just saw Monday night, remember?"

"No, not really."

"Yeah, you were drunk."

Steve again shrugged. "Can you name mine?"

Sodapop stood up from the table and walked into the kitchen where he kept Ethelbert's newly made sleeping quarters, which was really a soapbox with some Kleenex serving as the mattress and blankets.

"Nope. She's your kid, _you _name her." He tucked the egg in and patted the top if it with one finger. "Have a nice nap," he said.

"Sally," Steve answered automatically. Sally had been his mother's name, and it's sort of something he doesn't like talking about, but he really wished he knew her better. "It's gonna be Sally."

"_Her_," Sodapop corrected. "Call _her_ Sally."

"_Her_. Right." Steve glanced down at the vegetable? Fruit? He really hadn't a clue as to what an egg technically was, besides just an egg, and, now, his daughter. This was probably the one of the stupidest things he'd ever done in his life. And Steve had certainly done quite a few stupid things over time. And what was it for? So he could graduate, ultimately, but he's just a Greaser, what good would school do anyone? The little face, the eyelashy painted on eyes stared up at him. Steve blinked hard. It didn't just…move. Did it?

"I think I'll be a good Dad," Sodapop said, gazing off into the distance as if imagining the future possibilities.

"Are you actually gonna take care of an _egg_, man?"

Soda looked incredulous. "Yeah."

"I ain't."

Now Soda looked astonished. "Why not?"

"'Cause it's an egg, man! You're actin' like it's a baby."

"It_ is_ a baby!"

"An _egg_ baby!"

Gasping, Sodapop turned away, biting a knuckle. He looked towards the kitchen where Ethelbert slept away peacefully. "Don't let him hear you say that, Steve. Don't ever even think that again. Sally's never gonna love you when you talk like that, ya dig? So just shut up."

Steve put his hands up in defence. "All right, I'm just sayin'…Don't get what's so special about some hackin' egg…"

Soda gasped even louder this time. He indignantly marched to where Ethelbert was, and brought him back to the table. He held the egg up to Steve, saying, "Say sorry."

Steve couldn't help but laugh and laugh loudly, laugh until his sides hurt. Sodapop frowned and waited patiently for the attack to subside. "You done?"

"Yeah," Steve said, wiping his eyes before any tears streamed out. "Whoa. Okay, Ethelberg-"

"Ethelbert."

"Ethel_bert_, I'm sorry."

The familiar grin of Sodapop came whooshing back. "Thanks, buddy." He smiled at the egg again, and Steve swore he saw the look his own dad used to give him when he was a little kid and did something real cute, like trip over his untied laces or read a book upside down in his eyes. It made him get a really weird feeling, the feeling of wishing you hadn't grown up so fast. It wasn't the look his old man gave him when he said he was sorry for yelling at him the next day and handing him ten bucks. It was the exact opposite, one he wasn't used to seeing. Why was an egg making him think about such things?

When he went home that evening, carrying Sally in two cupped hands, Steve began thinking right about now would be a good time to drop her, or squish her in his fist, but that would be gross. He could just throw her as far as he can. Apparently he had a good arm, he's been told. He held Sally up to eye-level, looked into those pearly white, wide eyes…and said, "Hey." He's gone insane, that's for sure. Talking to an egg.

But that egg, Sally, somehow reminded him of the real Sally, his mother, whom he could barely remember besides her curly hair that looked so much like his and the way she patted the crown of his head when he came through the front door day after day of first grade.

Steve wiped his nose with the back of his free hand, while the other one held Sally high above the ground. His fingers loosened around the egg, preparing for the fatal drop. Just let it go and this whole parenting thing can be over with, and he'll never have to think about it again, because he was never going to have a kid. At least not now… His kid would end up worse off than him, and pretty soon Steve himself would be the one yelling and screaming at them and making them sleep on some friend's couch. He'd never get a look like his mom gave him so long ago again.

Except now, because even though that egg is just that-_an egg_- she looked at him like that _right now_.

Steve sighed and pulled Sally down, closer to Earth, down to his chest where he held her tight, but definitely not too tight.


	2. Day Two

HeDgEhOgSwItHsUnGlaSSeS, **thanks! Hope you still remember me!**

Ethelbert LOL,** I love Soda too!**

rachel,** I'm glad you like it. And yes, Steve and Soda can be sweet! ^^ **

Two

**"Why are you** carryin' an egg?"

Two-Bit was over Steve's shoulder, slapping at his head.

Steve shoved the big guy away, who swore in protest. "What?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

Two-Bit shrugged lamely. He said, "You and Soda. Soda's actin' like a mother! Like _my_mother!"

"He is," Steve simply replied.

Two-Bit plopped down next to him. Steve would bet a hundred bucks this guy couldn't go anywhere quietly. He could never sneak up on someone, that for sure. "And you're the father?" He snorted the last word, a pathetic attempt at holding back laughter. "It's a whole family!" He burst into laughter. And he'd had only two beers so far.

"Two-Bit," Steve said, shielding Sally as if he felt the need to protect her from his friend, "shut up and go away."

The Jokester punched Steve in the arm. "I'm just kiddin', take it easy!" A thoughtful look came across his face. What a rare moment, indeed. Two-Bit was having a thought. "But, but is this real?" he wondered. "Are you practicin' for somethin'? Is Evie-"

You don't bring Evie into it. No way. "Go away and annoy someone else. Ask Soda why the hell we're babysittin' eggs."

"Okay." Two-Bit smiled toothily.

* * *

><p>"Hiya, Steve, how are ya? How's Sally?" Soda asked, taking the place of Two-Bit. At least Steve could handle this guy today. He was busy writing in Sally's diary her basic information. Birthday: He couldn't think of one, so he just did May 15th, a month after his own.<p>

"She's as good as eggs go," Steve answered truthfully. "And how's..." Damn it. "How's what's-his-face?"

"Ethelbert?"

"...That's your egg, right?"

"Yes," Soda sighed.

"Oh."

After some moments, he remembered what was going on. "Oh! He's doin' good! He gets cranky if I forget to put him down for a nap, but usually Ponyboy reminds me."

"Sally doesn't take naps," Steve observed.

Sodapop's eyes bugged out like this was the most shocking thing to hit his ears in a very long time. "Why not? Maybe that's why she hates it when Two-Bit's around, 'cause she didn't get enough sleep to have much patience left."

Steve cracked a grin, the first of the day. "It's a shame I can tell you thought so hard about that."

* * *

><p>Steve left the Curtis' in the afternoon to bum around Tulsa. He took the back alleyways and quieter streets. If someone caught him waltzing around with an egg, well...it wouldn't turn out well for anyone.<p>

In that time, Steve and his daughter bonded. Well, if not having one thought about dropping her on the sidewalk counted as bonding, that's what they did.

With nothing else to do, he wandered back to where he always went-the Curtis house. Surprisingly, he felt rather satisfied with himself. He and baby's first outing, and they both came back in one piece.

"Back again?" Sodapop whispered.

"What?"

"Shh!" Soda waved his arms, angling his chin towards the kitchen. "Ethelbert's in the last six minutes of his nap." He went into his pocket and pulled out Ethelbert's diary. He took a pencil from behind his ear and scribbled something down.

"Sorry," Steve whispered. He sprawled out on the couch where Ponyboy sat doing homework. He laid Sally on his stomach.

"Done!" Sodapop squealed. "Pony, can you wake up Ethel for me? I wanna talk to my buddy."

"Sure." Pony jumped to his feet, doing as was requested, obviously glad to be away from Steve.

"Wanna go to the park?" Soda asked, ever cheerful.

Steve looked around the living room. "Two-Bit makin' you babysit again?"

"No, I was just wantin' to take Ethelbert. He's been itchin' to get outta the house, get some fresh air. Wanna bring Sally along?"

Steve by now was in a particularly lazy mood. "Nah. Can you take it-her with you?" Caught himself.

"Here, Soda!" Pony grinned up at his big brother and gently handed Ethelbert to him.

"Thanks, Pony." He ruffled his brother's hair. Sodapop glared back at Steve. "You're the dad," he said, "you have to do it. I can't keep doin' everythin' for you."

"Okay." Steve gave in. He couldn't say no to a poor, pathetic, pleading Sodapop. "Sure. Let's have a, uh..." Steve gestured to Sally. "What are those things called when little kids-"

"A play date," Soda said, bounding to the front door. "We're taking our kids on a play date!"

* * *

><p>The play date was at a park, obviously. And since two tuff Greasers wouldn't be caught dead at a kiddy park, Two-Bit's eight-year-old sister volunteered to tag along, obviously. Maybe she'd even have a heart-to-heart girl talk with Sally, Steve hoped. Give him a break. The small desire that was there to maybe be a father some day was diminishing.<p>

Steve had a smoke as he watched Soda on the swing, very gently going back and forth, one hand holding onto the chain and the other, Ethelbert. Kirby was playing in the sand a few yards away, building houses for Sally made out of leaves and twigs.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Soda?" Steve wondered.

"Hey, it's cool," Soda responded breezily. "Don't worry."

A not so good feeling rose in the doubtful Greaser's stomach. "Are you sure about that? You ain't gonna drop him?"

"Yes!" Soda leaped from the swing and rushed to a very shocked-looking Steve. "I finally go you to say it!"

"Say what?" Steve asked, becoming very annoyed.

"That you care!" Sodapop pranced circles around his friend. "I got you to admit you care!"

From the distance, Kirby rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. Boys.

"I do care," Steve snapped. He grabbed onto Soda and made him stop his ridiculousness. "I care about not failin' again. This is, this is something I might actually be able to do alright on, ya know?"

As expected, Sodapop looked ready for a fight, but soon his face softened. He smiled knowingly, patting Steve's hand. "I dig it."

"Good," Steve said, a strange sense of relief washing over him. "I don't always have to be a screw up." He glanced over to make sure Kirby hadn't broken Sally or anything. When all was fine, he knew that, even if no one else believed him, his daughter would never see him as a screw up.

_Listening to: An Old Fashioned Love Song, The Band_


End file.
